


shí gè 十个 [ten pieces]

by youtrashqueen



Category: Shaman King (Anime & Manga)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Cheating, Childhood Memories, F/M, Smut, Smut in first chapter, Unhealthy Coping Mechanisms, complicated relationship, lying, shamans are still shamans here
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-01-01
Updated: 2019-01-06
Packaged: 2019-10-02 07:43:35
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 7,863
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17260289
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/youtrashqueen/pseuds/youtrashqueen
Summary: Fate brings people together no matter how far apart they may be. [有缘千里来相会 Yǒu yuán qiān lǐ lái xiānghuì.]But he never believed in fate and fate didn't seem to believe in him either.





	1. one mistake

Her heart was beating violently within her chest, eyes like winter and ice staring up at him, a fragility like that of a deer caught in headlights, making her body tense with anticipation. Only the loud hum of the waterfall, behind her, masked the way her pulse raced and how heavily she was breathing the crisp mountain air.

His sharp gaze, like molten gold was a phantom of the one it had been in his young years, yet, relentlessly searching and prying into her very soul just the same. There was a dull ache, corroded by time that had suddenly spiked in her ribcage when those damned embers flicked over her exposed flesh.

And the tell-tale butterflies that had long perished with every year that passed, began to flap their wings aggressively, insistently, in the depth of her womb.

She felt _alive_.

For the first time in so many miserable years, she was alive.

His hair, that grew long, cascaded over a broad back, dressed in a smart suit that brought out his features like a beautiful canvas. He had matured, she knew, he grew -- _without her_ \--he learned and passed many a trials -- _without her at his side_ \--married, had a son, a business that he birthed, a legacy he made with his own bare, calloused hands.

He became a strength, a force so captivating and majestic that she wanted to weep at his very feet and reach out just to make sure he was not one of those pesky, haunting illusions.

 _Without her_. It echoed traitorously into her emptying mind, again and again.

Her eyelashes fluttered closed, hiding the breakage of glaciers behind eyelids, pressing plump, reddened lips together in a manner that was meant to suppress the keen building in her constricting throat. The freezing water that reached her naked thighs served as an anchor, while the white transparency of her yukata allowed nothing to remain in this regal male’s imagination. The anchor loosened in transparency.

Where she crumbled, he stood tall like one of the towers belonging to his family’s palace, unwavering and imperial, or the sturdy, unmoving stones that made the shore of the waterfall basin, solid against the elements, no matter how harsh. Her damp snow-white locks stuck to her neck and back, slithering down to the curve of her buttocks, giving her some warm comfort, like a blanket.

Was his wife that much better than her? The betraying green monster reared its head into her rabbiting heart, even now. Then again, she’d been plagued with dark, jealous thoughts for a long time now. Yet...

_No._

She would be a terrible liar if she admitted that to herself, that woman was in no way better, not even with that pretentious name of hers. His wife, no matter how lovely or nurturing, simply bore a streak of a semblance to her, something she didn’t fail to observe as soon as she laid eyes on her. A cruel sense of satisfaction coursed through her, knowing, just like the look Jeanne bestowed upon her when the revelation unfurled itself before her crimson eyes. Maybe it was the color of the hair, maybe her feminine presence and grace that allowed him to breathe with ease, maybe the soft looking skin or the famished longing in her eyes, maybe that’s what attracted him to his dear wife. The unconscious decision to fix something with something else, that was supposed to make it better and function the same way.

He chose that shell of a reminder, though. That fake illusion that tricked him into the same fake sense of familiarity he once found in her.

Yue returned too late, but the old man knew that, his father. What a devious creature he had been, how cruel he had been...sending her away for the sake of his son, because ‘it was an embarrassment’ that he firstly, showed interest in someone of her low rank, and, secondly, that she was a distraction from his training and indoctrination.

She opened her eyes, a sudden splash and ripple in the water making her aware of her surroundings again.

Tao Ren was knee-deep into the cold pond, advancing towards her, soaking his expensive Guanashina suit and caring little about his shiny, high-end designer leather shoes. He stopped when he was inches away from her, the proximity making both of them inhale and exhale anxiously, the atmosphere thick with tension, static buzzing from all those unspoken barriers broken many times over, be it with a hungry glance or a greedy touch.

“Yue.” He worded her name simply, tone demanding of her that she comply, cease her foolish little hide-and-seek game, and meet his scorching gaze. Too long had they danced this dance, tipping over the edge so many times, catching themselves just before they fell for good.

“What are you doing, Master Tao?” she asked just as simply, controlling her voice so well that it ignited him on the spot, a scrunch, a frown, forming easily upon his noble features. “No more of this.”

Before she could inquire what he meant by that, his hands cupped her head on both sides and pulled her into a ravenous kiss that demolished the last of her defences. In a matter of seconds, her resistance crumpled. Oh, how she missed this familiar feeling, his touch and his smell, how he always managed to encompass her whole being into a sense of security and familiarity that could only be described as home.

She was at home. _Finally._

But her conscience wouldn’t make peace with her desires. As far as their statuses were concerned, he belonged to another and she was only a past memory. A little perverse part of her smiled, rejoiced in knowing that the boy she left so many years ago, the one that swore stubbornly that she was his to marry when they grew into adults, that boy, this man, they both wanted her.

 _Still_ wanted her.

He made his point and sealed it with his smoldering lips, with the way his hands slipped over her neck posessively, with the way he traced her shoulders and waist like a man that was starving. What about his wife? They had a son together. True, she was away more often than not, busy with her charities and her ‘friends’, leaving their child with Ren for weeks, sometimes months, this time a year too long. A man such as him, carrying the weight of so much responsibility on his shoulders, being in this position, it was a bit laughable, in her opinion. No wonder he sought out what he couldn’t have with his own wife.

Tongues pressing, mouths feverishly searching each other sloppily, learning each other once again, guilty consciences be damned, she wanted him like he wanted her. Maybe this familiar place was at fault too, after all, they used to come here together, on his father’s land, to meditate under the waterfall for hours.

Those old days when he would steal a kiss from her when she wasn’t busy with her own duties as a servant, under the old oak tree in the royal gardens, when he was free of his father’s disciplining, if only for a second. Sometimes, she knew, that he would bear it all, just because at the end of the day, he could see her and they would stargaze on the tower’s highest roof of the Tao donjon.

It put her mind at ease, when he was close.

His father, however, wanted him to become the Shaman King so bad that Ren started believing he wanted it just as badly, and, she had often feared that he might lose sight of himself, that he might forget himself completely, as a human being. It seemed like he grew out of that unhealthy dehumanizing quest and still made the family proud, without needing some title to validate himself or his usefulness.

His sinful tongue trailed the pulse of her neck and as he inhaled her scent, teeth grazing, his arms pulled her flush against him by her waist, a low groan escaping her throat at the contact. Like a flutter, the previous train of thought disappeared and made way for other pressing matters.

What were they doing?

“R-Ren...we--”

“Shut up.” He interrupted her with a particularly stingy bite over her throat, his hot breath fanning the skin when she moaned her need in his ear. It seemed he had had enough, the finality clear in his golden gaze when he pulled away, gripping both sides that made the collar of her yukata and yanking it down with force, leaving her top bare for him to savor. She inhaled sharply at the exposure, but didn’t fight it one bit, only complied by letting the sleeves slip her elbows and submitting to his desire, lest he tear the fabric.

Her arms then wrapped around his neck urgently, and she wasted no more time in hungrily devouring his lips, just the same as he did. His hands slid, avariciously, down her bare back, followed her hips and paused over her buttocks, giving the plump behind a squeeze and bringing her groin flush against his as a result.

_Oh, by the--_

Their kiss became desperate and their lust almost uncontrollable, his mouth laving her neck and breasts in a manner that had her see stars behind her eyelids and cuss softly under her breath. Swiftly, without warning, he hoisted her up by her ass and she instinctively wrapped her legs around his middle, thighs squeezing at feeling his hardened crotch underneath his fancy suit pants.

“Oh, Ren…”

This was dizzying, so much so, that she didn’t even realize he was moving deeper into the freezing water, not until the cold nipped at her middle deliciously and she pulled to look, to seek him, to know. Baby blues mirrored searing yellows, finding so many conflicting emotions there, that she was momentarily awestruck, lost in him completely.

Then his fingers pushed her panties aside and his cock filled her in the most painfully delightful way possible, stretching, burning, throbbing.

When did he even manage to pull down his zipper?

She arched against him with a shuddering sharp moan, head lolling back. This wasn’t how she imagined it would end up being like, not how she saw her first time with Ren, it was always a fantasy in the furthest corners of her mind, that of passionately making love to one another, each of them giving themselves for the first time to each other. A more romantic setting, she had assumed.

But that had long sunk into the depth of years. Those were the fantasies of a teenage girl.

Then again, as fate would have it, he wasn’t her first and she wasn’t his first. A notion that he seemed to grasp with a furious snarl and a hard clutch of her milky thigh, even through the clouded judgment he was under. That would bruise later, her fogged mind supplied.

Her body trembled and she brought herself back to him, capturing his mouth with hers, attempting to make him forget how she had been with another. He grunted and slid out of her completely, only to slam right back in, punishingly, making ripples on the water surface and a slapping sound of skin on skin, shadowed by the howl of the waterfall not far from them.

That managed to grant him another lewd moan from her, the muscles of her arms tensing around his shoulders as soon as he repeated that motion again and again. This was not love-making, it was a simple, quick, filthy and...wrong fucking.

But it was theirs and nothing felt more right than that alone.

They moved as one, biting and clawing at each other’s bodies, his fingers wound posessively into her roots, forcing her throat bare to him. Degrading nothings spilled from his mouth, before it found her skin and sucked, bit, broke through flesh, until she clenched around his cock viciously, prompting him to shudder with a rugged groan and fill her up to the brim, hips stuttering.

Just the thought of him spilling into her, taking her like this, had her panting with delirious need, as if this alone wasn’t satisfying enough.

For now it would do, however.

She didn’t want to ask for more, even if it had already been a whole year of her standing by his side. Not as a wife or a lover, but as the protector of his son, in service to his family.

He quickly let her go, as if reality was catching up with him and she was too afraid to look up at him, fearing that she would see guilt, disgust, and most importantly, rejection. So, she did what she did best and covered herself up, choosing to brush off what had just transpired and leaving the water without uttering a word. The walls were built up again, albeit, cracked and almost useless if not for a fake mask of content.

Grabbing her towel from one of the shore’s large stones, she carefully wiped her face and patted down the length of her hair, before she pulled a second robe over her wet one, this one thicker and effectively hiding everything from sight.

His eyes were on her, she could feel, burning, assessing, calculating, regretting.

Consequently, her movements were rigid, forced and hurried, so as to avoid any contact for now, to get the hell away from him as soon as humanly possible.

She clumsily slipped on her wooden sandals, grabbed the same towel and laid it around her neck before leaving the premises. “Yue!”

No. She would not turn around.

He had a wife, for fuck’s sake! She had to remember that. A son too, and here she was, shagging him like a homewrecker. Like some common whore, thirsty for a love she lost a long time ago. Furthermore, she knew that this wouldn’t end well, no situation like this ever did, the consequences would catch up to them, maybe not right now, but soon.

When she reached the Tao palace, she breathed out her relief, climbing the stairs and walking the familiar hallways, as if this was always her home and not some place she was once banished from.

How did this even start? She knew where the beginning was, what tied them together, but how did it end up like this?

Distant memories plagued her mind.

 

….

 

Those golden eyes, albeit younger, colder, harpooning through her like he could see her very soul. A glimpse was all it took for her to feel her heart racing impossibly fast whenever he would be around. As a servant, part of a family that devoted their lives to do the Tao’s deeds, well, you had to be invisible, unnoticeable. And shit, she tried so hard to be only a wallflower.

 _“Pardon me, Master Ren, I did not know you were using the training room,”_ \--that’s how it all began, how their destinies intertwined. Her, only eleven, and him, just ten. It wasn’t like they hadn’t seen each other before, but it was the first time they had been in such close quarters and alone. She always believed she was...lackluster, someone not worthy of being seen and definitely not worthy of being remembered.

He noticed her, though. He always said it was stupid to think nobody could, what with her long white hair, like a blizzard, and her frozen wintery gaze that could make even the bravest of men shiver in anticipation. Like a hail storm, he often compared her to. One year older than him, Ren always found it frustrating how she always brushed him off with the simple excuse of him being younger, that he wasn’t mature enough to think about such things as marriage or queenship. Stubbornly, he never listened.

_“Who do you think I am? Don’t tell me what to do, it’s none of your business,”_

That night, when he turned thirteen and boldly spoke of winning the Shaman Tournament and becoming king, he promised her with a passion she had never seen before, that she would be his queen. _“There is no other,”_ he had said, and she believed it. Though he was never an affectionate person, he did find ways to let her know he did care for her, in his own way. Sometimes these attentions could become overwhelming, like being gifted a horse, or sharing his batch of milk with her on the rooftop when they would stargaze together, down to intricate hair pins or meals.

Their first kiss had been under that old tree in the royal gardens, when he grabbed a lock of her hair and yanked her into a sloppy, yet meaningful peck of their lips. She could positively say that her heart was going to burst out of her chest under the secretive light of the moon.

But it wasn’t just his attention that she was unintentionally capturing.

At one point, after another boy, albeit older than Yue, had shown interest in her, Ren demanded that she wear her hair tied up, because it would make all aware of her ‘taken’ status, and continued with the order to ‘cease looking at males in that way’ --what way, she did not know, not even to this day, but he was very serious about it at that time.

When the boy, coming from a lower branch of the Tao family, grasped her hand and asked her the honor of letting him court her, Ren was utterly furious -- _”Don’t start blushing because he flirted with you!”_ he had heatedly accused, golden eyes wild and kwan dao grasped tightly in his hand _“If you ever let down your guard with another man again, it’s off to prison!”_

He had beaten the boy to an inch of death, having challenged him to a match afterwards.

 _“You’re my woman!”_ \--he had roared at her when she came to confront him, as word spread like wildfire of the young master’s deed _“Shut up and let me protect your honor!”_

That made her blush hotly.

Honestly, his possessive behavior was somewhat worrying, if not maddening sometimes. Quietly, she would comply, until his family began taking notice of his interest in that little servant girl. While it wasn’t a shame for a lower branch to marry into the main branch, Yue was none of those, her family reduced to the lowly rank of just auxiliary staff, soldiers, cannon fodder, if you will. It didn’t mean she was useless or weak. In fact, because her family were the carers of weapons, the silverette had grown to love the idea of a warrior’s path. She learned the art of handling the Emei, Jian and Liuxingchui, which were all hard to practice and master, without the guidance of someone experienced. Regardless of that, she was most known for her proficient use of the Lujiao Dao, which she often wielded whenever Ren would wish to spar her and test her skills, as he would put it -- _because his future queen had to be strong, not just sit pretty on the throne_. Needless to add, he did not see her only for her appearance, but for her skill and prowess as well. Her status never stopped her from becoming a shaman, either, nor did it pull her down when she dreamed of becoming a great warrior one day.

What truly pulled her down was her infatuation with the young master and his equal burning interest in her.

Without the young man's knowledge, Tao Yúan, head of the family, summoned her in his quarters. Nobody knew what happened, but Yue was gone by morning, banished from China and her family relocated to Japan. The rumor was that she left of her own volition, that her path took her to the ancient temples of monks that could truly hone her strength and shape her potential.

Ren was livid when the news had reached him a day later, just as he had built the courage to make his intentions known to his family, ask them to allow her to become his fiancee --after all, it wasn’t unheard of for two of their age to be engaged so young. He searched for her relentlessly, asked questions, boldly stood up to his father for the first time in his life --only to be beaten to a pulp and taught a lesson about obedience. Nobody told him the truth, nobody spoke about it ever again.

And he swore he would find her and look her in the eyes again.

But then he met Yoh Asakura, then he became distracted, his whole life changed, his beliefs crumpled, his purpose took a different form, his goals shifted and he escaped the road his family had set in stone for him. He went on to become a great head of the Tao family, made his own company from nothing and built a family with Jeanne after meeting her in Europe.

 _Her_ eyes faded from his mind with time, until they became just a distant memory.


	2. two blue fires

And then he saw you again, under that same accursed oak tree, lone in the withering gardens that blossomed in summers, under those same shining stars, with the borrelia aurealis in your infuriatingly astute gaze.

When you looked at him, so familiar and so different, he thought his heart would stop. In fact, he forgot how to breathe for a moment and he thanked the heavens above that his wife had not witnessed this, because he would have been made.

The treacherous thoughts running through his mind. She would have known. She would have read him like a children’s poem.

Nobody would know how you stirred him in ways his dear sweet wife could never, he would not allow anyone such slanderous advantage over his carefully crafted domesticated life. Nobody would know how those cold ice blues froze any coherent words in his throat and how that petite and lithe body, with your generous bosom and wide hips, made him swallow hard and force himself to remember how to breathe properly. Nobody was there, nobody.

Could anyone blame him, however? You were ethereal, spectral, like the moon goddess herself. And he was twenty-one, married, with a toddler son.

A gentle yet cold breeze, fresh from the mountains of the area, made your loose strands of silver flick and undulate with the current, like will o’ wisps.

It was winter, just after the New Years, his mind quietly offered, giving sense to his numbing hands.

His throat constricted, so many things running through his mind, while you remained there, unmoved, displaying no emotion on that flawless, fair face of yours.

Like you’d expected to see him, as if you already knew everything that had happened and he couldn’t tell you anything new. Those northern lights in your eyes, they dulled as they blinked. Once. Twice.

When Jun welcomed him home, in the corridor leading to the west wing of the Tao residence, where his chambers were located, whispering of something he needs to know, this was the last thing he had expected. “I know this will come as a shock, but...she’s here, she’s back,” --and he had looked at his older sister as if she were mad. “Who is back?”

Her gaze softened and she dropped the arms that had been crossed over her chest, to a more timid, pitiful state --”Yue...father sent for her while you were in Japan, she’s been here for the past two months,” she quietly explained, guilt permeating her tone “I didn’t want to tell you --actually, I didn’t know how to tell you --I-I’m sorry, Ren,”

For the longest minute of his life, his mind had completely blanked at the mere mention of your name. His usually expressionless face melted into surprise, eyes widened and lips parted in disbelief, then, quickly, it merged into anger and remembrance. Pailong, who had been watching from behind Jun all this time, tensed visibly.

His sister blocked his path as fast as she could once she caught on to the change in mood, extending her arms on each side. “Ren, don’t do anything stupid! Let me--” but she was shoved out of his path in an instant, smoldering eyes aflame as he marched onwards like the god of thunder himself was feeding him his rage. Nothing mattered anymore, not even, he shamefully admitted, his sleeping son in the arms of the maid that had trudged after him, in tow with some servants hoisting his large luggage.

What a fool he was…

As soon as he saw you, all that fury, all that pain and vengeance, they all became a puddle at his feet. With some perverse satisfaction, he noticed that half of your hair was tied up in a typical chinese bun --which meant you were nobody’s yet.

But you couldn’t be his either --”Yue,” your name, it felt so right for him to say it, came so naturally, as if he hadn’t exiled it completely from his tongue. Your gaze lowered in response, taking him in inch by inch, before it settled on his features. Your arms came around to hug the upper arms, the puffer jacket you were wearing wrinkling at the motion.

“Master Tao, it has been a long time,”

You were speaking to him so formally --”What is the meaning of this?” his voice was harsher than it was meant to be. Internally he winched. The already cold weather felt colder, but he put it on the fact that he was not wearing anything except his suit to keep him warm.

“I have been summoned by the master Yuan to resume my duties as royal servant and guardian to the royal family,” as you said this, your back turned to him, no longer interested in his appearance or words “I assume the news have not been relied to you yet. I am to be your son’s --young master Men’s guardian. Master Yuan has been adamant in his desire to have a trusted servant with his grandson, as the mother, from what I was told, is away on maternity leave still. He spoke of your busy schedule as well and the benefit it would offer for me to carry some of the weight for the both of you,”

His heart dropped, a storm of emotions taking over his usual logical and disciplined mind. “How dare you, after so many years, return to --” your harsh, empty glare flickered over him in a second, sword drawn and pointed at his adam’s apple with movement so swift that his trained eyes missed it “I suggest you keep all insults to yourself, master Tao. I have mentioned that I was summoned, not that I returned of my own will. My loyalty lies with the family, but my complete submission, only to your son, so please treat me respectfully and do not mistake my devotion for blindness or stupidity,”

Your gaze held something deadly. Something that made him shiver in anticipation like so many years ago. “Is that a threat, Yue?”

“Merely a suggestion. How could a lowly servant like me even threaten you, master Tao?”

The sword was sheathed back to your hip, exposed by the short chinese top that showed your perfectly toned abdomen and generous cleavage from the upside-down triangle shape on the chest, all having been hidden previously by the long jacket.

He made a graceful turn on his heel and stormed out of there, but not before giving you a warning glare, one that he hoped you would be haunted by. Standing up to you, no --he simply didn’t want to be in your presence, not when so many things tried his heart.

The palace, his home, it suddenly became veiled in tension with his sour mood, and all of its occupants became fully aware of it, including his family. Despite this, nobody spoke of it.

 

 

* * *

 

 

From that point on, you were always there, by his chamber door, guarding, by his son’s crib, putting him to sleep and tucking him in and walking behind them at all times, like a perfectly trained dog. He chose to ignore you completely, barely spared you a glance, barely even exchanged a word for the first few months, soaked in the bitterness that your return provided, with no explanation as to why you left in the first place.

Old demons came to haunt him at night, bringing back aches he had banished long ago.

However, when he saw you with his son, how gentle and kind you were with the boy, a part of him, how you cooed and wiped his mouth when he was done eating messily, how that ferocity you had practically carved into your face seemed to just vanish when Men was there --his heart would leap and he would choke on things he would want to say.

He felt like a fraud in those moments. He felt like he’d been untrue to himself.

And you gave him the same treatment, cold and to the point, and sometimes, when he would come home from work, tired and missing the company of his wife, he would find himself being jealous of the attention Men would get from you. Especially when he would catch you sleeping on the couch, with his little boy coiled to your body and the TV on mute.

Secretly, he took a picture from the doorway with his phone, feeling ashamed and guilty for it afterwards, but not enough to erase it.

And it wasn’t just his condo in Shanghai that you invaded with your stupid wholesome presence.

His mansion in Seoul, as well as his house in Nikko --you moved in just as easily, intruding into his and his wife’s space with so little disturbance that it left him wondering if he was the one getting used to you and your constant ubiety.

In fact, everywhere he had a home, your belongings would miraculously end up there, in a spare room as well, even before you reached your destination. It was impressive, to say the least, how organized and annoyingly insightful you were. He did need to travel a lot between Japan and China, but especially between regions of Japan and China, then Europe and Korea, so you being able to accommodate that, well, it helped him with his son greatly, even if he wouldn’t admit that to you directly.

He got used to seeing your modest beige bag in the entrance hall --so unlike his wife’s usually big, flashy designer trolleys -- or your cheap, green perfume bottle on top of the shoe rack, or your intricate hair pins on the kitchen and coffee tables Everything about this was maddening, driving him to vengefully kick the aforementioned travel bag aside, only to find your spiteful glare on him the second he made to leave the entrance hallway.

“I --” but before he could make anything in his defense, you shook your head and left.

He almost snapped right there, but he had the self-control to hold himself high and proud, as if his action was not that of a child throwing a tantrum. You didn’t mention it, either. He was satisfied with just putting that embarrassing moment behind.

 

...

  
One spring day, he found the one hair ornament he had gifted to you in his youth, lying carelessly by the stove, probably during your lackluster attempt to cook food, when you usually tied your hair up and secured it with these.

How he knew this? No, he was not observing your every move, he was merely keeping an eye on you. He may know you since you were both young, but that didn’t mean he could trust you --not even when you brushed your black painted nails through the stark white of your hair and choked those silver strands of yours into messy, uncoordinated buns --in his kitchen, no less.

Under his scrutinizing gaze. Did you know how it made him feel? Seeing you like that in his home? Bare neck all for him to take in, as if you were his in a sense.

Languidly, he ran his thumb over the dragon shape at the end. You took very good care of it, by the shine of it and the intricate creases free of grime. They got dirty easily, he knew from his dearest mother.

The next day, he found himself looking at expensive hair pins in a high end jewelry store. It was a detour, as he had already finished with the business meeting he had earlier in the day and was already on his way back.

His father would be livid if he knew how his devotion to his still no-show wife was faltering after just a short time period in your company, actually, his whole family would frown upon his actions right now, they would berate him, his wife, she would be heartbroken, wouldn’t she? He never got her things like this. Then again, she never liked things like these. In light of the revelation, he picked the buyao with pearl strings and the shape of a silver phoenix at its end, along with a jade zan in the intricate shape of a tiger, your chinese zodiac sign --see? He still remembered.

The rebellious side of him rejoiced --he was not some docile, spineless man, he would make his own decisions, bad or good --and these accessories were worthy of royalty, like you were meant to be so long ago. Like he wanted you to remember.

Funnily enough, he didn’t work up the courage to give these to you.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> leave kudos if you enjoyed, comment to keep me posting, bookmark to keep an eye on it.


	3. three times when

Often, from his office in his little manor in Tokyo, he could overhear you talking to Men. The walls were thin, an aspect he came to value in spite of the little privacy it offered. Every time, he would stop what he was doing and listen to what you were saying --usually it was nothing but nonsense, now, however, your lowered voice, like a conspirative whisper, garnered his attention.

“--and then your father ate the whole plate, despite it being burnt,” you laughed softly, the sound so light and weightless, carrying through the echoes “His face was priceless, you know, but it made me smile, he knew I tried my best...I’m sorry if this isn’t the best meal, I’m not good at... _this_ ,” you sounded breathless, sheepish too “You don’t have to try and eat everything now!” a clanking of silverware followed after, a flustered movement and “You make me smile regardless,”

He stood up from his study and quietly, oh so quietly, marched down the corridor, to the large kitchen’s doorway, peeking in just enough to see his son sitting in his toddler chair and you fussing over a bowl of what was supposed to be mashed carrots, judging by the orange vegetables on the counter, and something else. It looked bad, however, even from his standpoint. He bemusedly crossed his arms over his chest, his chinese tang suit crisp with the movement.

Too much detergent made it stiff like that. He had wanted to bring that issue up, but his heart just wouldn’t let him.

You turned to the boy after throwing the offending food away in the sink and leaned down, planting a kiss on his forehead, over his silver bangs. “There you go, for your trouble,”

Men huffed and grasped handfuls of your snowy locks, pulling you along with strength that such a young child shouldn’t have. Ren’s eyes widened as he witnessed his cheeky son nuzzling your chin in an attempt to give you a kiss in exchange. You fell silent, staring at the youngling with bewilderment, but then your full lips broke into a soft smile.

“Oh, you're so thoughtful,” you cooed and pinched his cheeks, making the baby grunt and let go of the hair. His ruby red eyes glared furiously at the obliviousness you displayed in regards to his affections.

“Let’s try again. This time, it will taste heavenly,” you stood straight and placed one hand on your hip, the other into a fist in front of Men’s face “Come on, do it like I taught you,”

Another huff, but his son raised his small hand and placed his little knuckles to yours in a wannabe fist-bump. An exaggerated _‘pffaww’_ sound whistled past your lips as you wiggled the fingers backwards, mimicking an explosion of sorts.

He always knew you would be an incredible mother, but seeing you like this, with a child that wasn’t even your own, made him fantasize about how it would be like if Men were your own. Maybe one of your own, _with him_ \--how would you be as a _wife_ , as a _lover_ , as a ---he had to stop this. Ren’s face scrunched up in a frustrated scowl and he left the scene.

Bitterly, he cursed his dearest wife for leaving during such trying times, when his heart was being torn asunder.

A period of emotional hibernation followed this particular event, during which, Tao Ren simply refused to even be in your company. Guardian? He thought not. Perhaps you were a test from his father, see if he fails in being the devoted, responsible husband that would make the best head of the family...or if he gave into his selfishness.

That would not do. Ren was above that.

 

….

 

 

He didn’t know what came over him, but he was angry, from that business meeting where some know-it-all decided to comment on his plan for the year, saying it was old, that they needed a more modern approach to keep up with the age, otherwise, their products would stop being as appealing to the population --something he doubted, considering the Leidi Group’s massive extension.

In fact, the whole week had been annoying, hit after hit that slowly grated at his steel nerves. From having dirtied his snake-skin shoes from the mushy autumnal mess outside, to being stuck in an infernal traffic, to having an imbecile crash into his car. One of his favorite cars too. Repairing it was also a hassle, as it would take months. Finally, when he got home, within the condo in Beijing, the light bulb in the entrance hallway stopped working right as he was taking his shoes off, the complete darkness startling him and making him stumble into the coat rack and fall down with it.

And after all that, you happened to be there, cleaning his study, some important, confidential papers in your hands. It wasn’t as if you had never done this before --you always did it, because he knew you hated messes and chaos, but now you were just at the wrong time in the wrong place.

“What do you think you’re doing at my desk?”

You paused, stacked the papers to the side and made eye contact. “Tidying your desk, master Tao,”

“Drop the formalities,” he hissed, marching inside and throwing his case on the available burgundy armchair by the bookcase. This time, you ignored him and finished cleaning up, probably aware of his poor mental state. You could always read him so well, by the gods, it made him so spiteful.

His golden eyes watched you with rising fury, a sneer forming on his features at how that damned hair of yours slipped down your slender shoulders.

Again, you were wearing that irritating cheongsam dress, made of silk, hugging every curve, split at both sides -- _were you doing it intentionally_? His three pronged tongari shifted with the sudden motion as he strode up to you, his hand grasping you by the wrist and yanking you to focus on him.

“What is it with you?! Who do you take me for?”

You stared at him as if he were mad. “Pardon me, but I don’t understand the question, master Tao --” you were flung to the side “I ordered you to drop the formalities!”

Something shifted, in your stature, in your eyes, like the breaking of ice above a deadly, cold lake. Lips curled into a cruel smile and you rubbed your wrist calmly, seemingly unaffected by his sudden outburst. “You ordered me? Master Tao, you ask me to drop the formalities as if we are familiar, yet you command me like a master and want me to obey like a servant. How does that work?”

Damned be your quick-witted mind and sharp tongue.

It was also the first time in the nine months you spent with him that you showed emotion. Lividly, he realized that you were testing him, pressing his buttons --”Are you mocking me?”

“I would never even think of doing that, master Tao,” -- _yes, yes you were_. In an instant, he was on you, slamming your shoulders into the bookcase, a sharp exhale leaving those rosy lips of yours. He was never violent like this, but you were provoking him, he was already riled up and you egged him on --and he fell into your trap like a dumb insect in a spider’s web.

Your eyes took a glacial shimmer, boring into his with so much intensity that he felt suffocated. His fingers dug into flesh, but you didn’t even flinch. “What now? What are you going to do now? Are you going to beat and banish me like your old man did?” that wicked smile turned predatory, veiling a bitterness that had been slowly burning beneath the surface for many years. These words, however, completely snapped him out of his wrathful stupor and he let go with shocked eyes and a questioning expression.

“What did you say?”

Finally, your colors were showing. You bowed your head, realizing that maybe you took it too far, the half-bun on top of your head coming undone just as a book fell on the floor. “Nothing, I said nothing…” but it was too late, pieces started coming together.

“My father, he banished you? He... _he beat you_?”

Furiously, you glared at him. “No, I said nothing! I’m going to sleep,”

“You didn’t leave on your own because you wanted to, did you, Yue?”

You made to leave, flustered, angry, embarrassed, but at his inquiry, paused by the door, a frightened glimpse fleeting his way. “Hah...I had my suspicions, but I felt crazy for thinking that. I let it go after the Shaman tournament, I thought...”

He brushed a hand through his bangs, his chest constricting. You didn’t abandon him, you were forced to leave, by his father. All these years, you had been banished, thrown away --but why.

“Why? It doesn’t make sense...you never did anything wrong,”

His embers fixed you like a hawk, taking quick notice of how your shoulders slumped and how defeated your eyes looked when you turned your gaze away. “Because a lowly, weak servant like me should never hope to be by the side of a strong, main branch royalty like you. It would have been shameful, frowned upon, laughed at --” your voice was so frail that he could feel his insides being pulled out.

Finally, he had his truth. You sighed shakily, body stiffening.

“Your father, he found out about your...infatuation with me. He believed it would go away, but when it didn’t, he summoned me and told me that I had two choices: remain and die as a traitor with my family or leave and take the path to become a glorious warrior in the service of the main branch,”

His blood was boiling with rage. He never knew, nobody ever told him and he was absolutely certain his mother had always known, his sister had always known -- _they all did_. As if sensing his rising anger, you turned your head to glance back at him. “It doesn’t matter anymore, Ren,” at the use of his name, informally, the Tao held your eyes “I’m fine, you ended up well. You’re married, you have a child, a wife, a good life...you became so much more than what I imagined. You became so strong and so independent, all on your own ---” you bit your lower lip “--without me. I think it was for the best that I left when I did. Maybe if I hadn't, then things wouldn’t have been the same, maybe you would have been so different from now...and...I would never wish for that. If I was to repeat that day, I would make the same choice. In a sense, I did leave on my own volition, and...I understand now why your father did what he did. It was to protect the family, he cares so much...”

You turned the handle and cracked the door open. Only, his palm came over the wooden surface and slammed it shut, his body heat at your back. He could hear your breathing hitch, while you remained still, like a deer in headlights. His long hair fanned around your shoulders as he leaned forward, coming around like a curtain. In exchange, you boldly craned your neck to make eye contact, but his other hand shot out in time to wrap around your collarbone and pull your back to his chest. “I should have stood up to him, Yue,” he confessed, “I was planning to, when you left...you must know that I meant every word I have said to you. So, don’t say it didn’t matter, _stupid_ ,”

You smelt like pine and something flowery, a scent that had once been very familiar to him. Your hand came up to his arm, grasping his wrist in comfort and squeezing it tight, letting him know you were acknowledging this.

“I’m proud of you regardless,” you spoke simply, honestly, without a trace of malice or bitterness.

Swiftly, you slipped his embrace and managed to open the door while he was stunned into silence by your words. A quiet ‘goodnight’ followed the footsteps out of his study and he was once again left to his own perilous thoughts.

What was he doing? Was he mad? The picture of his dear wife and himself, on their wedding day, mocked him from his desk.

Having nobody to talk to about this made it even harder. Bason was no longer in his possession, having been gifted to his son at his birth in the shape of a talisman for now, until he was old enough to coerce him forth. Now he wished he still had his trusty companion.

 

….

 

 

From that night on, things changed between you. Unintentionally, his eyes would always find yours and he became more attentive, seeking you out whenever he could, asking you if you ate or slept well. He would join you and his son during the meals and the walks. Before he knew it, the Christmas holidays were upon you snow thick on the ground.

It was time to visit his old friends at the Funbari Onsen again. This was the only time of year he usually took a longer vacation than normal, almost two whole weeks, in which he went to Japan to catch up with his fellow shamans, celebrate the holidays and the New Years, after which he would return home to a feast with his family.

This time it would be different, though. You were here and you were going to join him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> please leave me kudos if you enjoyed this! comments are much appreciated as well!


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